


Whatever We Are, I Still Remember the Way We Were

by givemesomewings



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Daredevil Exchange, F/M, M/M, NYE - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemesomewings/pseuds/givemesomewings
Summary: Matt let the memories wash over him like the few tears running down his cheeks. They were like a devastating blow and a warm embrace all in one; bringing him warmth while reminding him of all the ways he’d failed and hurt the ones he loved.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Sister Maggie, Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: DDE’s 2020 New Year’s Day Exchange





	Whatever We Are, I Still Remember the Way We Were

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SalazarTipton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/gifts).



> Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! This is my almost-but-not-really late gift for SalazarTipton as part of the DaredevilExchange. NYE was CRAZY, and this day was spent running errands before I finally remembered to post. Hopefully, its not too late.
> 
> This fic is set in an alternate version of Daredevil S3 and based off of/inspired by this photo: https://i1.wp.com/www.tor.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Daredevil-Maggie.png?fit=740%2C+9999&crop=0%2C0%2C100%2C428px&ssl=1
> 
> EDIT: This fic was altered slightly to include some Matt/Foggy vibes, per the prompts from my giftee. I hope you enjoy the changes!

Matt lie back on the couch in one of Father Lantom’s many offices, one foot propped comfortably on the small coffee table in front of him. The smell of whiskey and lemon juice wafted in from a small kitchen attached to the room.

This area was usually reserved for church officials, but Lantom had made an exception for Matt. He was out with many of the other nuns from the church, witnessing to partygoers and the homeless alike.

Matt was considerably less depressed than he thought he should be, taking into account his situation. Virtually every part of his body was either broken or extremely sore, he could barely hear out of his left ear, and he was spending the holidays locked in a church with arguably the meanest nun on the planet.

But still, he’d come a long way. He’d been locked away in the basement of St. Patrick’s Cathedral for almost 2 months now, licking his wounds after... everything. He’d lost everything, and he wasn’t sure where to go from here. Most days, he felt like half of him was still trapped under that building. Or at least he wished he were.

“Hot toddy’s are ready,” Maggie said, effectively interrupting his thoughts. She walked into the room carrying a steaming mug in each hand. “We were low on honey, so I substituted it with more whiskey.”

She nudged his foot off of the table with her elbow and set a mug down in its place. She then lowered herself onto the opposite end of the couch.

She stared at the wall as she sipped her drink in silence. Minutes passed before Matt sighed and gestured loosely from his reclined position with his hand.

“Could you hand me my mug?” he asked, smiling. He knew Maggie’s answer before he asked. He really didn’t want to jostle his ribs too much, but he was more than capable of reaching the cup.

“Get it yourself,” Maggie said as she took another sip of her drink.

Matt could’ve mouthed the words right along with her if he wanted to. He smiled to himself, groaning a bit as he reached forward for the drink.

Maggie sighed and grabbed the mug, feigning irritation as she held it out for him to take.

Matt gave her his sweetest, most charming smile as he accepted it. “Thank you, Maggie.”

He didn’t need his sight to know that Maggie rolled her eyes in response.

“Mmm,” he hummed gratefully. “Not too bad.”

“I know,” Maggie said. “It would taste even better surrounded by friends and family,” she said pointedly.

Matt sighed, more than used to Maggie’s barbs at this point. “I don’t have any family,” he said into his mug.

Matt heard her inhale sharply, but other than that she said nothing. Long moments of silence passed before she spoke again.

“Lantom’s worried about you,” she said. “Moreso than usual. The holidays can be a tough time for some people and you’re in an especially tough situation.”

“Lantom’s worried, huh?” Matt joked.

Maggie rolled her eyes almost audibly this time. “A couple of the nuns are worried as well. But only a little,” she tacked on. “Barely worth noting.”

Matt laughed. “Well, tell them not to worry. I’ve got an amazing nurse taking care of me.”

“Damn right you do,” she said, making Matt laugh once again. “And it looks like you’ll be ringing in the new year with her, too.”

“Guess so,” Matt sighed. After a few moments of them sipping in mostly comfortable silence, Maggie spoke up again.

“What would you normally be doing, this time of year?” Maggie asked, a smile playing loosely on her lips.

“Well, me and... um,” Matt paused, clearing his throat. “Um, Foggy. We would probably be at Josie’s.”

Matt smiled at the memories of he and Foggy, ringing in the new year, drinks in their hands. Last year their tradition had included Karen, too. “Way more drunk than we had any business being. Acting like complete assholes.”

“Hmm,” Maggie chuckled. Matt half expected her to comment on his cursing, despite her own potty mouth. But she let it slide.

“Chasing after girls, I suppose?” she asked.

Matt thought about the last few times he’d gone out drinking with Foggy. Ever since they’d known each other, there’d been a near unbreakable bond between them. Sometimes, especially when they were both thoroughly intoxicated, that closeness shifted into something... else. This change would show in the way that Fogs interacted with him; the way that hugs lasted longer, gazes were more intense.

A few times when they were sequestered off into a secluded corner of the bar, Foggy would look directly into his eyes and just stare; saying nothing and everything all at once. Matt would swear he was about to lean in and do... something. And honestly, Matt wouldn’t have stopped him if he had. But alas, he never did.

These ‘moments’ between the two of them had decreased exponentially after Matt told Foggy about his ‘double-life’ - he hated calling it that but he supposed it was accurate. Foggy saw him differently, those gazes once so electrifying shifting to a mixture of confusion and disappointment; sometimes just flat-out anger or, worst of all, pity.

But after he’d forgiven Matt, for the most part anyway, Fog’s gaze toward him started to fill him with feelings of warmth of love again. Not in the same way they used to, but that was okay; they were moving forward. That was really all he could ask for.

Now, Matt thought back to the last person he actually had slept with, even though it wasn’t some drunken one night stand he’d brought back to his apartment from Josie’s.

It was only a few nights before the Midland Circle explosion. Matt had snuck away from Jessica and Luke and down to a small shack hidden in a secluded spot down on 34th and Main. It was funny, almost hilarious even, how shocked Frank was that Matt so easily knew where to find him.

Matt was scared that night, more scared than he was willing to admit; of losing his city, of losing Elektra. Before he knew what he was doing, he was knocking on the door to Frank’s hideaway, shamelessly searching for comfort he was sure he couldn’t find in anyone else.

He wanted to talk to Fogs, but they both knew he’d never really understand Matt’s need to wear the mask, or his attraction to the most destructive people he could find. And both Elektra and the Hand fell right in the middle of that collective category. Plus, Matt had put both he and Karen in enough danger already.

It kept Matt up some nights, thinking about how the last meaningful moments he thought he was going to have on this earth were with two of the most dangerous, and insane, people on the planet. As well as two of the most genuine and caring.

“I’ll take that as a ‘No’,” Maggie interrupted his never-ending stream of thoughts for the second time tonight. “Or maybe you were just reminiscing,” she said, deadpan.

“No, no. I was just-“

“It’s fine,” Maggie said. “You seem to miss that life of yours more than you let on.”

Matt chose not to respond to that. He understood Maggie wanted him out of the church, though definitely not more than he wanted out himself. But he couldn’t go back to who he was, to the life he used to live.

Elektra was the strongest person he knew, and in the end, Matt couldn’t even protect her. Couldn’t even protect himself. Frank probably didn’t even stand a chance when it came to the shit-show that was Matt Murdock’s life. It was only a matter of time before Matt’s being here cost Maggie and Lantom a price they wouldn’t be able to pay.

“Alright, how about this?” Maggie asked. “I won’t tease you for the rest of the year, if you promise not to throw yourself another one of those sorry ass pity parties. Let alone, in the middle of one our many scintillating conversations.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle despite how dark his thoughts had gotten. That last part of her statement had reached new levels of sarcasm, even for her.

“You’ll promise to be nice to me for what? A whole five minutes?”

“I never said I’d be nice,” Maggie said. “And, actually, it’s only about 30 seconds.”

Just then, fireworks and screams of joy started to ring out from the streets outside of the church.

“I guess both of our countdowns were a little off,” Maggie sighed. “Happy new year, Matthew.”

Matt drained the rest of his drink, exaggeratedly clearing his throat and shaking his head at the sharpness of the whiskey.

“Slow down, Matthew,” Maggie laughed. Matt thought it was the first time he had ever heard her do so.

“Happy new year, Maggie,” Matthew said, offering her a genuine smile. He leaned over and pulled her into a hug.

Maggie stilled. She patted his back awkwardly. After Matt continued to hold on, she spoke.

“That’s enough, Matthew,” Maggie said sternly. She shoved his hands off of her shoulders. Matt looked a little shocked.

“Sorry, Maggie. I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. She stood up from the chair. “You should get some rest. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can be on your way.

Matt nodded silently and spoke after a beat. “Right,” he said. “Good night, Sister.”

Maggie didn’t respond. She left the office and headed upstairs to her own bedroom.

After Matt could no longer hear her footsteps, he slumped further back into the chair. He listened as the fireworks took him back to that night and so many others just like it, dodging bullets from the Hand’s soldiers; years spent fighting for his life, while Foggy sat up worrying about him and waiting to hear that he was okay.

The screams from outside morphing into Foggy’s as he shouted at Matt, the morning after he’d found Matt half-dead in his apartment so many years ago. Foggy had called him a hypocrite and a liar, Matt’s heart breaking with the truth in every word. They brought him back to Elektra’s yells as she swung at him with her sais, slicing at his suit and tearing his skin to shreds, right before she pulled him near and kissed him as Midland Circle crumbled around them.

He prayed he’d be able to sleep tonight, a small reprieve from the guilt and pain he seemed to feel all the time now. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but it would just be a drop in the bucket considering how much kindness he’d been shown by those who owed him absolutely nothing.

He closed his eyes, hoping to force himself into a short doze with the help of Maggies’s drink, which was more whiskey than anything else.

As he gazed into the darkness behind his eyes, he felt Elektra’s hands caress his face right before the building crushed them both. He felt Frank’s weight as he cradled Matt to his chest, his rough touch reminding Matt that he was real; that he was alive. He felt Foggy’s hands as he hugged him, soft and reassuring as he told Matt that everything was okay and that he would always love him no matter what happened.

Matt let the memories wash over him like the few tears running down his cheeks. They were like a devastating blow and a warm embrace all in one; bringing him warmth while reminding him of all the ways he’d failed and hurt and the ones he loved.

It wasn’t the gift of sleep he’d asked for, but he’d take it gratefully. The moments he cherished with those he cared for most, while painful as they were, were still a gift all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i hope i did these characters justice and that you enjoyed it SalazarTipton! i did my best to fit your prompts and keep this a little canon. writing matt/foggy is waay out of my comfort zone but i decided to come back and give it a try ❤️
> 
> hmu at @maniskordaze on twitter and tumblr!


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